The Warlords Golden Whore (Barbarian Domination Erotica)

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This was not the answer she sought. Let me ask a different way: when you were taken captive, were you not spared a moment by fate in which you could have taken your own life rather than face capture?

Kevin paused, as if weighing the question. It gives purpose to. What else is there to live for? Kevin threw up his hands in exasperation. To know the company of friends, to serve men you admire. In this case, to escape and go home again, what Page These people were not Tsurani, she reminded herself; the codes of behaviour that bound slaves to service on her world were not shared by the folk beyond the rift. The Lady of the Acoma went on to wonder whether others of her culture might have discovered how different the Midkemians were from themselves. Hokanu of the Shinzawai sprang to mind.

Mara made a mental note to pry loose information on Lord Kamatsu's interest in the barbarians during the son's forthcoming visit. Next she considered whether this Kevin of Zun might hold strange knowledge or ideas that might prove helpful against her enemies. Pained by more than cuts and bruises, Kevin sighed. Now you want speeches without so much as a drink to wet my throat first. Kevin raised his brows in reproof. He intended to say more, but at that moment someone outside chose to scratch on the screen to the Lady's private study.

Since no Tsurani would signal his mistress for attention with anything but a polite knock, Mara did not immediately respond. Whoever waited without seemed entirely unfazed by this fact.

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The wooden frame slid on its oiled track, and the bald-headed slave who had abetted the clothing scam at the slave auction poked his face inside. The bald-headed man smiled at Mara, then withdrew without further ado. Mara sat speechless for a long moment. In all the memory of her ancestors, she had never Page Mara curbed her first impulse to call for punishment, now being totally convinced of the need to understand more of these barbarians.

She sent her runner to find another overseer to manage the barbarians and set them to cutting akasi, as they should have been doing all along. Then Mara returned her attention to Kevin. The barbarian returned a provocative smile. His eyes wandered boldly over Mara's body, which was covered only by an almost transparent silk robe.

I don't know how you folks feel about it, but given you're showing me all you've got without a thought, you obviously don't consider such things. Mara's eyes widened. She might be having difficulty thinking of this barbarian as a slave, but obviously he had no difficulty thinking of her as a woman.

Softly, in tones that could only be called dangerous, she said, 'To suggest such a thing, even indirectly, could mean a slow and painful death, slave! The most shameful execution is hanging, but if we wish the condemned to suffer, we hang them by the feet. Some men have been known to last two days that way. With a pile of hot coals just below your head, it can be a most unpleasant way to die. Aware of Mara's anger, Kevin hastily amended, 'Of course? Zun has a much cooler climate than you are accustomed to. The ladies from my lands must wear heavy skirts and animal skins for warmth.

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Tends to make the uncovered female body something. Kevin laughed.

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You beat the dust from them and set them in the sun to air. His shoulders stung yet from his beating, and despite the padding of the cushion, he ached even from sitting. Which explained much of the unmanageability of the Midkemians, Mara concluded. We have servants, serfs, and franklins who owe allegiance to their Lords.

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The Warlord's Golden Whore (Barbarian Domination Erotica) - Kindle edition by Fannie Tucker. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones. Lady Lana, a proud noblewoman of Vashina, is laid low when her carriage is ambushed by the ruthless Ironshaft Horde. Tales speak of the Ironshaft Warlord's​.

Townsmen, merchants, guildsmen as well. Unsatisfied with such a brief explanation, Mara plied Kevin for details. She sat motionless as he described the structure of Kingdom governance in depth. Long shadows striped the screens by the time her interest flagged. Kevin's voice by then sounded worn and hoarse. Thirsty herself, Mara sent for cool fruit drinks. When she had been served, she motioned for Kevin's comforts to be looked after.

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So we have Emily, who is a back-up dancer for "Dongo the Puppet Show". Sweet Sister in Law Ch. What was the case here: As I wrote before, when Edward marched on Cirencester in december to invade the Welsh border, Thomas had apparently asked the Scots to come to his [and the Contrariants] help, to prevent Edward to retake control over South Wales. She suspected that he was about to offer to buy her from the Sisterhood. He took another of the long pins and slowly began to press it into her urethra making sure to stab the walls from time to time as he pressed in inside.

Mara asked then about metalworking, an art her people knew little of, since such substances were rare in Kelewan. Kevin's assertion that occasionally they possessed silver and gold was beyond credibility. Her astonishment at such wonders made her forget the differences between them. Kevin responded by smiling more. His easy manner awakened a hunger she had never allowed herself to explore. Mara found her eyes wandering over the lines of his body, or following the gestures of his strong, fine hands as he sought to explain things for which he lacked words.

He spoke of smiths who fashioned iron and shaped the hard, crescent shoes that were nailed to the hooves of the beasts their warriors rode. Quite naturally the discussion turned into a lively talk over tactics, and the mutual discovery that the Midkemians found the cho-ja as terrifying an adversary as the Tsurani found mounted horsemen. That moment Nacoya knocked upon the door, to remind her of her afternoon meeting with her councillors.

Mara straightened, startled to realize that most of the day had fled. She regarded the deepening shadows, the plates of fruit rinds and the emptied pitchers and glasses strewn on the table between herself and the slave. Sorry that the Page Let him bathe and apply unguents to his wounds. Then find him a robe, and have him await me in my personal quarters, for I wish to speak further with him when my business is concluded. The slave bowed, then motioned for Kevin to follow.

The barbarian unfolded his long legs and arose stiffly to his feet. Nacoya watched his parting gesture with narrowed eyes, a frown on her leathery face. Her mistress exhibited more amazement than outrage at such familiarity. Suddenly Mara hid a smile behind her hand, seemingly unable to contain herself. Nacoya's displeasure deepened into suspicion. A wise ruler does not reveal her heart to a slave. I am fascinated by his alien people, nothing more. Nacoya had raised Mara from infancy and the memory of Lanokota's gesture did not worry the old nurse.

What troubled Nacoya was the reaction she saw in her mistress. Irritated by the urge to discuss what should have needed no denial, Mara closed the topic with an imperious gesture. I will see my advisers, and Arakasi will relate his report on Lord Desio of the Minwanabi. A wistful smile came and went on Mara's lips. Shrewdly intuitive, Nacoya knew Mara did not The sparkle in Mara's eyes, and the half-excited, half-frightened clenching of hands betrayed the Lady. Fears of pain and humiliation - memories of a brutal and insensitive husband - warred with new desire.

Nacoya might be old, but she remembered younger passions; twenty years ago she might have given serious thought to having the slave brought to her own sleeping room.

Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.

Aware of Kevin's attractions, and foreseeing trouble, the former nurse sighed silently. Mara had proved herself a clever player of the Game of the Council; but she had yet to understand the most basic things about relations between a man and a woman. Already under siege, she lacked instinct to know an attack from that quarter was even possible. Fighting tears of concern, the former nurse composed herself for the forthcoming meeting.

If Mara was to have her Page A thunder of drums joined in as the assembled crowd knelt, bowed, then sat back upon their heels in the ancient Tsurani position of attention. Arranged according to rank, but clothed in no other finery than white robes tied with an orange-and-black sash, they awaited the arrival of the new Lord of the Minwanabi. The Minwanabi great hall was unique in all the Empire; some ancient Lord had employed a genius for an architect, an artist of unsurpassed brilliance.

No visitor to the house of Desio's ancestors could fail to be awed by the engineering, which couched a supreme comfort within what amounted to a fortress. The hillside chosen for the estate house had been hollowed out, the upper third pierced with arches that were left open to the sky, admitting light and air. Screens designed to protect against inclement weather were presently drawn back, and the entire hall lay awash in noonday sunlight. The lower portion of the hall was cut into the mountain.

Its central chamber measured a full three hundred paces from the single entrance across a richly patterned floor to the dais. There, upon a throne of carved agate, Desio would receive fealty offered by the retainers and vassals summoned to do him homage. Minwanabi guards in ceremonial armour stood at attention, their black lacquered helms and officers' orange plumes a smart double line in the gallery overlooking the main floor.

The musicians by the entry completed their fanfare, then lowered their horns and drums. Silence fell. A piercing note cut the air.